


The love of a brother

by Skyfirewolf



Series: Hamilton short stories [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: After Stay Alive Reprise, Alex is a sad lil bean, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Before It's Quiet Uptown, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Herc is a good brother, Hurt/Comfort, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:00:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26601049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyfirewolf/pseuds/Skyfirewolf
Summary: Alexander, once he’d slipped on the jacket, nodded dully and returned his eyes to the grave before him.Hercules gazed at him in concern and shifted so that he was sitting close enough for Alex to benefit from his body heat, but not touching.“How’re you holding up?” He murmured.Alexander slowly shook his head, eyes glossing over. “It still hurts, Herc. So bad.”
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton & Hercules Mulligan
Series: Hamilton short stories [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596310
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	The love of a brother

December, 1801.

A lone figure sat cross-legged in front of a gravestone. It was a man, his dark hair and clothes going white with the frost.

‘Philip Hamilton. January 22, 1782 – November 24, 1801’ The grave said. 

Despite the rapidly falling now and freezing temperatures, the man remained in his place, frozen, unmoving, lifeless, almost. His pale face and dark, deep eyebags made his appearance akin to a ghost.

The crunch of snow was heard behind him, and he turned his head ever so slightly.

Another, taller man with darker skin came up and stood beside him.

The other man turned back to the gravestone.

After a minute or two, the taller of the two cleared his throat and spoke. His deep voice was soft with worry. “Alexander.”

“Hercules.” The smaller man, Alexander, rasped back, unaware that he was trembling with cold.

Hercules heaved a sigh and took something out of his coat pocket. Another, thicker, jacket. “Here.” He rumbled, handing it to Alexander. “You’ll freeze out here.”

Alexander finally looked up, dull, sad eyes landing on the jacket. He turned away. “M’ fine.”

Hercules sighed again, lowering himself to sit beside his friend. “Alex, please. I made it for you.”

Alexander relented at last, giving a small, nearly unperceivable nod. Hercules puffed out his breath in relief. “Thank you.” 

Alexander, once he’d slipped on the jacket, nodded dully and returned his eyes to the grave before him.

Hercules gazed at him in concern and shifted so that he was sitting close enough for Alex to benefit from his body heat, but not touching. 

“How’re you holding up?” He murmured. 

Alexander slowly shook his head, eyes glossing over. “It still hurts, Herc. So bad.”

Hercules gently patted his shoulder. He didn’t know what to say.

Alex sniffled and blinked away the tears pricking his eyes. “It all feels so dark and empty... “ He swallowed hard against the emotion now welling rapidly in his throat, leaning heavily against Hercules. “And ‘s all my fault.”

“Alex. Alex, no.” Hercules clapped his hands on the smaller man’s shoulders. “C’mon, man. Stop saying that.”

Alex clenched his teeth and roughly scrubbed the tears leaking from his eyes off his cheeks. “Its the truth!” He choked out. “I- If I hadn’t published that d-damned pamphlet and let Philip g- go to that duel-” He sucked in a deep, shuddering breath, “-My life might be whole a-again!” 

Hercules stared down at his friend, worry etched clearly onto his face. “Alex…”

That did it. Out of all the things to release the hurricane inside him, it was the uttering of his name. 

Alexander’s resolve crumbled to dust, opening the floodgates. A wild, devastated sob tore out of him, and he sat there, sobbing like a lost child. 

Hercules gazed at him. “Are you-” He started, rather awkwardly. “Do you- do you want a hug?”

Alexander looked up at the tailor through streaming eyes. He didn’t have to think twice before all but throwing himself at him and burying his face into the Irishman’s chest.

Hercules immediately wrapped his arms tight around his small friend and drew him against his chest, rubbing his back.

Alexander cried. He cried and cried and cried. He couldn’t help it. The guilt of everything that had happened in the past few years swamped him. He wanted to let it out. He needed to let it out. Had needed this -a chance to let himself cry without being judged- for so long.

“H-hey, Herc?” He sobbed out.

“Yeah?”

He hiccuped. “Th-thank you… for b-being here.”

Hercules chuckled gently. “No problem, little bro.”


End file.
